


76. Natalie Portman and Christina Ricci. Post-mortum dissection.

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [76]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Although the boys themselves are not in this log, it features strongly in their storyline and therefore is being included here. Christina is played by tjournal and Natalie by Jay Linden.</p>
    </blockquote>





	76. Natalie Portman and Christina Ricci. Post-mortum dissection.

**Author's Note:**

> Although the boys themselves are not in this log, it features strongly in their storyline and therefore is being included here. Christina is played by tjournal and Natalie by Jay Linden.

_**Natalie Portman and Christina Ricci. Post-mortum dissection.** _   
[Takes place the morning after [Natalie and Sam ''meet''](http://www.journalfen.net/users/natalieportman/51052.html) for the first time. Will be backdated. Crossposted from [](http://www.journalfen.net/users/miss_christina/profile)[**miss_christina**](http://www.journalfen.net/users/miss_christina/).]

There's no doubt that Christina can hold her alcohol. Pack away, hold, and process, actually. Still, by the time Natalie'd tracked Christina down after the boys left, Christina was drunk enough that Natalie more or less just poured her into a car, then poured her into bed when they got home.

And she's having to make her own coffee. But that's not _that_ unusual, not really.

Life returns slowly, inch by inch of skin, internal organs shifting grumpily into each other until everyone is where they need to be. Christina takes a huge gulp of air and expels it, imagining the alcohol still in her system is like that smoke monster from the show with the hot guys on the island...

And then, eyes opened, she's awake and sober. Coffee and bacon will set her to rights...if only she can convince her lower half to get off the bed.

Natalie's puttering around in the kitchen, which she almost never does, surprising herself with some of the things that she wasn't really aware that they had.

Like a potato masher. It might come in handy.

She's poured herself a cup of coffee, and she's looking up toward the ceiling, wondering if she should bring one to Christina.

Christina has a long talk with her bottom half and eventually she slides (less than gracefully) off the bed and straightens herself upright. She's in her underwear. She's standing.

She feels a surge of pride at her ability to manage her alcoholic intake.

Step by step, Christina walks towards the door and onto the landing. She smells blessed coffee.

She's just about to go upstairs when she hears Christina moving around up there. When she doesn't hear a 'thump' or a 'crash', she decides it's safe to wait, and pours a cup for Christina, setting it on the closest counter within reach.

The stairs are a challenge. But there is a banister. And gravity.

She ends up at the bottom with a thump.

"Hey," she calls woozily. "I smell coffee."

Natalie smiles at her. "There is coffee," she says. "I'll even bring it to you," she adds, coming over with a cup. "Don't drink it too fast," she warns. Because she's turning into her _grandmother_ , clearly.

Christina rests against the wall at the bottom of the steps, sipping coffee. It's like a Disney film where the heroine gets the secret elixir and slowly comes to life.

It's brilliant.

"So hey, thanks, I love you," she murmurs.

"Love you too," Natalie says. "There are some interesting things in our kitchen, by the way," she adds.

She thinks back frantically to last night. Did she do something weird between getting drunk and coming home?

"Weird like weird for a kitchen or weird like...Sam's body?"

"Weird like... okay, what?" she asks, turning around from the cupboard. "That was an abrupt tangent," Natalie says. Even for Christina.

"I might have been a little unstable last night," Christina says defensively, clutching her coffee like a shield. "I'm just checking."

"Weird like we have a half dozen vegetable peelers," Natalie says, coming to sit down on the step next to Christina. "We didn't really talk about last night, last night."

"I like to have colors to match the various vegetables I'm peeling," Christina mumbles. Ugh, post fake set-up dissection. "What should we talk about? It went awesomely great as far as I can tell. Right?"

"How long did you actually stick around in the room for before you went and made best friends with the back room bar stock?" Natalie asks.

"Four minutes, give or take." Christina finishes her coffee. "That was enough to see the seeds planted."

"We talked, people whispered loudly, I put my number in his phone, people whispered louder," Natalie says, shrugging. "It went pretty well, yeah. It was weird. It was good, and I'm okay with it, and all, but it was weird. I kept wondering if we were totally obvious."

"You have a fucking Oscar - I'm pretty sure you can convince strangers you find Sam good looking enough to potentially bang."

"I had a fucking script when I won the fucking Oscar," Natalie points out mildly, sipping at her own coffee. "Anyway. I think it went okay. They were off to London this morning, so when he's back, we do dinner. We're probably too early stages for it to get picked up in the press at all yet, but it's a starting point."

"I may have encouraged the bartenders to be loose lipped," Christina shrugs. "Needed some insurance, right?"

"It all helps," Natalie says. "Especially since Sam being Sam, and me being me, we aren't about to fake-jump each other in public. It'd look pretty suspicious if we did."

"You're going to have to schedule some canoodling at some point." Christina wishes for more coffee. Enough to swim in.

She wrinkles her nose, and okay--somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows that it has to be ridiculous that she's wrinkling her nose at the idea of 'canoodling' with Sam Worthington. But it isn't real, and even more to the point, he's not the one she wants to be canoodling with (the word canoodling is losing all meaning, even in her brain) in public. "Eventually," she concedes. "We've both always been dainty in public about relationships. I don't think we want to hit the gas too hard, do you?"

"This is Hollywood, not Amish Country. At some point, someone needs to see some tongue or else no one is going to care." Christina levels herself up and staggers into the kitchen for more coffee. And maybe a handful of sugar lumps.

Natalie mutters some kind of protest and flops back against the steps. "There's got to be a law against you making sense this early in the day, when you've had that much to drink," she says, just a little bit grumpily.

"Me handling my liquor is not news," Christina calls, filling her mug to the tippy top and convincing herself that drinking from the pot was rude. "Me also being right on about this thing is also not new." She sighs. Because she hates managing this thing that makes her want to throw up much more than any liquor binge in her life.

"Do you want to know how I'm doing it? How I'm managing to flirt with a guy and make it look real?" Natalie hasn't lifted her head from off the stairs yet.

"I was assuming this was an acting thing." Christina frowns as she walks back to where Natalie is sitting. "Right?"

"Kind of," Natalie says. "I'm not usually quite so method though. I think of you. You're the reason I'm doing this. You're the one I want to be doing this with, out in public. You're the one I want to be flirting with, and touching, and kissing, and listening to people whisper behind our backs." Okay, maybe not so much that last part. "That's how I'm making it real. That's why I can pretty much guarantee that when I come back from faking it with Sam, you're gonna get the real thing. A lot."

Christina nods, sips her coffee.

"Thank you? But you know, if just want to think about naked grandmas and icky meat when you're with Sam - that's okay too. You don't have to think about me and get all worked up and stuff."

Her voice sounds weak so she sticks the cup back against her lips.

"That's not what I meant, exactly," Natalie says. And she checks a sigh because seriously... she knows that face. "I'm just saying. There's a reason. And I'm talking about when I'm talking and flirting and all of that part. Not when we're... whatever it is you and Ryan are going to end up talking us into doing so that we look right."

"I know the reason. I came up with the reason," Christina says, rubbing the center of her forehead with her palm. She really should have poured some aspirin into this second cup of coffee. "And Ryan and I shouldn't have to be the ones coming up with stuff. Its...it's a little more masochistic than I want to be."

This time Natalie does sigh, but it's at herself, not Christina. "You're right," she admits. "Again. I don't know what I was thinking. I guess part of me thinks that the more involved you two are at putting this all together, the more it's about the four of us, the more secure we'll all feel. I certainly don't want to make it harder."

"You know, all the involvement in the world isn't going to change the ick factor for me and Ryan. I don't want to feel like I have to be cheerful about this for it to work. It's going to happen, we're all fully briefed on the reason and you know - moving on." Christina slumps a little. "I don't want to keep talking about it."

"Okay," Natalie says, very softly. "We don't have too dwell on it. And you don't have to be Mary Sunshine. Yellow isn't your color anyway."

"Thank you. That's all I'm asking." Christina twitches and sighs. "I don't want to fight about this anymore. Because I'd totally hate the irony of us breaking up because we keep arguing about how we're never going to break up."

"That's the kind of irony I'd really rather avoid," Natalie agrees, voice still very soft. "There's really nothing I can say or do that's going to make this okay, is there? We just have to keep going forward, do it, and prove that way that we're going to be fine."

Christina looks at Natalie as serious as she's ever been. "There's nothing to say to make it okay and I think...it's alright to say that. Not everything worthwhile is easy. And I'm sorry you know how crazy this makes me. I hate that you're looking at me like I'm an actual nuclear bomb with a hinky switch."

"Okay," Natalie says, taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly. "So, just because I want to be sure I've got all of this, tell me how we do this, accept that it's okay that it's not okay, and you and I get to move forward being happy and feeling safe, since that's the ultimate reason for all of this. What do you need me to do to make that happen?"

Christina opens her mouth and closes it. Her knees feel a little weak and she sits down hard on the floor with a camera-worthy slide.

"Me? Why do I have to have all the answers?" She can't keep the rasp out of her voice. "If I knew how I'd already be doing it." The pressure sits hard on her chest.

Natalie gets up and comes over to her, sitting on the floor opposite, taking Christina's hands. "You don't," she says. "It's a place to start. And we're not fighting... just working out the kinks. Figuring out how we do this, exactly. You don't want to talk about this all the time, and I get that. I just think that since we're already talking about it now, we might as well push through and figure it out now."

Christina frowns in frustration. She doesn't believe there is a master list of answers and it makes her feel stupid as hell that nothing comes to mind. "I don't know what to say," she finally spits out, hands tight in Natalie's.

They're turning in circles, confusing and frustrating each other, and it isn't getting them anywhere. Natalie squeezes Christina's hands in return, trying to get herself to stop overthinking everything.

Yeah. Good luck with that.

"I'm sorry," Natalie says finally. "This isn't a test. I need to stop trying to predict every possible scenario and response. I can't. And we won't know how either of us are going to react. We'll just... stick to the basics, and try not to talk it to death."

"Don't fuck and don't fall in love okay? I don't know what else to say."

"That'll do," Natalie says. "And don't you and Ryan get tired of putting up with all of this bullshit and run away to Brazil to escape Sam and my stupid careers."

Christina makes a face at that. "Is that like...a serious concern?"

"Not really... Not exactly," Natalie says. "But I do feel like it's a lot for the two of you to deal with, especially since I know it bothers you."

She shrugs. "Ryan and I want what's best for you guys." And they're both adequately infused with masochism and insecurities to grease the wheels.

"I know," Natalie says. "I'm sure Sam knows. But like you said... we don't have to like it. Any of us."

"So the situation is broccoli and liver times infinity. Nobody likes it but it's necessary." Christina is starting to get a headache; she drops her head and stares into her lap. "And I don't...okay, I don't mean to sound like the total bitch I am but me and Ryan shouldn't always have to say That Sucks to alert everyone else it does. Some stuff should just be...over the line obvious."

"You aren't the only ones saying or noticing that it sucks," Natalie says. They both know how badly Natalie reacted to the idea when it was first broached. "But I have to be out in front of cameras and pretending that I'm feeling this thing I'm not out in public, so I'm just trying to find a way to do that where it's as painless as possible for everyone involved."

"But there is no painless way!" Ugh. is it too early to start drinking? Again? "This merry go round is making me nauseous."

There they go, around and around again. Merry go round is apt. "Okay, I'm not explaining anything right, and we're both getting headaches," Natalie says. This is an issue of Natalie trying to fix everything and being glass half full, and Christina gritting her teeth so she can get through something she doesn't like, and being glass half empty. There aren't bandaids and platitudes for this.

"We'll make it work. Want more coffee and to drop it?"

Christina looks up and all but whimpers with gratitude. "If you really mean it - yes. Please. This is going to be impossible with me not drinking any more as it is."

"There's no point in trying to hash all this out so we aren't stressed if the hashing it out creates more stress," Natalie says. "I think we should let it go. If you let me make you the offer I wanted to first," she says, taking a deep breath and continuing before Christina can freak out about what she's going to say.

"I'm willing--and offering--to talk to you mother and Gaby about all this. We have to, soon. It's going to start getting public."

Can lack of caffeine in the morning cause a brain tumor? Christina would like to see the research on the because Jesus. She winces.

"I can handle them. I've been doing it for most of my life," she sighs. Her plan is to mention the arrangement and then the baby planning, hoping the later distracts them.

"I know you have... I know you're perfectly capable," Natalie says. "But I wanted to offer. Is there anything I can do, anything at all that'll lift some stress or make you smile?"

"Coffee and making out?" Christina asks hopefully. "Maybe pancakes?"

Natalie leans in and kisses her softly. "Coffee, pancakes, and back to bed for the making out," she counters.

"Sounds good." Christina wishes she could say something to make it less - less everything. Less crazy-making. Less stressful. Something to make less of these - which make her stomach ache with worry. "I could probably use about seven aspirin too."

"I think we can arrange that," Natalie says. "Am I trusted to make pancakes while you go take a shower and drain the hot water tank, and let the aspirin kick in?"

"Do you promise to follow the directions exactly?" Christina asks cautiously.

"I promise not to make so much as one alteration," Natalie agrees. "Even if I think it would improve it."

"Pretend it's science and if you change any bit of it, our kitchen will blow up. I mean this literally and not in a metaphorical way."

"You put too much yeast in _one_ bread recipe..." Natalie trails off with a sigh.

"I had to replaster and paint the ceiling." She full on shudders. "Promise okay?"

"I promise," Natalie says. "I won't even turn the stove on until you're back--I'll just mix the batter."

Christina nods and stumbles to her feet. She wishes the shower was closer. Maybe they should consider that...

"Deal. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be back." Christina kisses Natalie on the cheek.

"I promise--the kitchen will still be intact when you get back," Natalie vows. "Go. Take the aspirin before the shower."

"Right-o." Christina lumbers up the steps; she feels like there's a timer over her head to get to the shower, get back down and save the stove from implosion or whatever else Natalie can accomplish while she's gone.

The hot water is heaven and combined with the (four) aspirin, Christina starts to feel humanish and more controlled. She doesn't want their home life to be dramatic every damn day because soon - very soon - it's going to be they're only time to be together.

In sweat pants and a tank, Christina wanders back downstairs, sniffing.

Nothing is burning.

Natalie's stripped down to boy cut panties and a tank top (no bra, not like she needs it), and as promised, nothing is burning. "Batter's made, there's fresh coffee, and I didn't touch it, but I checked the fridge, and there's bacon."

"I've never loved you more, mostly because I like your ass in those panties," Christina says sincerely, grabbing coffee and heading to the fridge to rescue the delicious delicious bacon.

"And also because of the bacon, right?" Natalie says, boosting herself up on the counter to watch Christina cook.

"Your ass totally beats bacon," Christina says - with love - before grabbing the griddle and frying pan. "Even in taste tests."

"You should do my PR," Natalie says, swinging her feet. "I'd find an all new demographic."

"Ass perverts - a fun group." Christina gets the bacon started then concentrates on the pancakes, adding a bit more mix casually before pouring it onto the griddle.

"Always good to have around parties," Natalie agrees, narrowing her eyes a little. "I thought we were doing science," she says.

"Trust me I'm a scientist?" Christina makes an attempt at it and flips everything over.

Natalie sighs dramatically. "My life is so difficult," she protests. "Is your head feeling better?"

"I no longer feel like chopping it off with a spoon." She puts a stack of pancakes on one plate and the bacon on the other. "And voila, we have cooked food."

"That would be messy," Natalie says, hopping down off the counter. "I'll get the butter and syrup."

Christina sets the table, getting more coffee and orange juice and napkins...her brain goes to a nice and pleasant place as she prepares their breakfast. By the time she sits down, she feels peaceful.

Natalie settles in at the table and tucks her feet up underneath her, drenching her pancakes in syrup before she cuts them up into tiny little pieces and starts eating them, one at a time. "You totally thought I was going to set the kitchen on fire, didn't you?" she teases.

"It may have crossed my mind," Christina says demurely, eating bacon.

Natalie sticks her tongue out at Christina, just as demurely as Christina's doing her bacon eating.

Breakfast (brunch? Lunch? Christina has utterly no clue of the time and is too lazy to turn her head to read the clock) is quiet as they scarf the food.

As she licks her fork - finally done - Christina observes Natalie for a few moments. "We should plan the sperm event at some point, before you head off for the next round of Academy Award Winning Actress Natalie Portman Tour."

"James is at work preparing a supply for us," Natalie says, playing with her empty coffee cup. "It'll be shipped here and ready for us with less than a day's notice. All you have to do is drag out a calendar and do some period math, and we can start circling dates," she says. "Because there's nothing sexier than period math and scheduled... basting."

Christina makes a face. She's happy she finished chewing and swallowing before they reached this point in the conversation. "I've done the math already. We're looking good for Thursday actually." She stares at the pattern on her plate. "So....tell him to wank faster?"

"Wow... Thursday!" Natalie's grin is suddenly huge. "I'll make sure he tells them to send it right away, rather than hold on until there's a bigger supply. Might as well start with what he's already got."

"God I hope I'm good at this and get pregnant the first time," Christina says nervously. She worries the napkin in her hands.

"Okay... you aren't going to like this one, but stress doesn't help," Natalie says. "No pressuring yourself. We're going the low-tech way, so it might not work instantly, since we're avoiding the medical... stuff."

"Oh good, now I'm going to stress about not stressing."

"Okay, that was slightly predictable," Natalie admits.

"I'm a predictable beauty," Christina says dryly. She starts cleaning the table to give herself something to do. "A future pregnant predictable beauty." She swallows hard.

"I know," Natalie says, watching Christina gathering the dishes. "I don't think it's going to feel real until it really is. Maybe not even then. We're going to build a new little person together."

Christina loads the dishwater, methodically moving until she finds a nice rhythm in her head. "It's real to me now. Last night was my last cocktail, possibly until the kid is ready to give my breasts up as a lunch truck."

"Wow... so we're really ready," Natalie says. She's got butterflies, but they're almost entirely the good kind. "I can teach myself to make mocktails for you," she offers. "I'm allowed to use the blender."

"Not the good one," Christina says automatically as she adds washing powder to the dishwasher. She gives her girlfriend a stern but loving look.

Natalie sighs loudly. "Not the good one," she repeats. "Still--I could learn! I wouldn't need to cook anything, or use the stove. Everything would be cold!"

"Electricity and blades honey. We've had this discussion." A quick wipe down of the counter and Christina is refilling the coffee cups. And then pouring hers out with a sigh. "I forgot to give up caffeine," she says mournfully. "Okay, starting...now."

Natalie sighs again. "Yes we have," she admits reluctantly. She watches Christina pour out her coffee. "You've got a hangover," she points out. "Why don't you give yourself one more day of coffee, and cut it tomorrow," she says. No coffee, and no alcohol, both cold turkey? This is going to be an interesting few weeks.

"No. I kinda have to prove to myself I can do this whole...denial thing." She pouts, taking a deep breath of the lingering scent of coffee in the air. "For the greater good and that."

"Do you want me to give up coffee?" Natalie offers. "Solidarity and all that?" She's not entirely sure what kind of human being she'll be if she can't drink coffee, but if Christina's going to give it up, she has to at least offer.

"I'm going to be honest. The gesture is awfully sweet but I don't think I can handle my caffeine withdrawal and yours without ending up committing a felony."

Natalie wrinkles her nose. "You have a point," she has to admit. "Okay. As long as you know that the thought was there, and the offer was sincere."

"I love you for making it, truly but please don't stop ingesting caffeine on my account," Christina says as she sits back down, hands in her lap so she doesn't steal Natalie's cup. "So here we are, making plans and stuff! Aren't we grown up?!"

"Very grown up," Natalie agrees. "Wanna ignore any and all responsibilities for the rest of the day, turn off our cell phones and make our agents crazy, and spend the day in bed except to pee and get more chocolate?"

"I'm pretty sure you're the only who's going to miss calls but I will certainly agree to your plan ma'am..." She wavers for a moment. "Wait, I can have chocolate right?"

"You can absolutely have chocolate," Natalie says. "I think the American Medical Association knows better than to deny pregnant women chocolate."

"Oh thank God. I mean - no caffeine, no liquor. No crazy wild sex with knives." She tries not to let her lower lip quiver. "No chocolate would have left me with no self-medicating tools."

"And we can't have that," Natalie says. "Plus, don't worry--I'm going to do crazy research, and make sure that I can still make you a very happy little submissive masochist, without it being dangerous to the baby. I'm sure Citadel's got tons of information on pregnancy safe kink."

"They probably have graphically illustrated pamphlets." She shudders. "I don't want to see any of the pictures okay?"

"I'll do the research, then try it out on you," Natalie says. "No pictures."

"Thank you," Christina says gratefully then glances at the ceiling. "You said something about putting us to bed for the day, right? We should do that. I should probably get my girl parts revved up for the implantation...with some hot lesbian sex."

"You're right," Natalie says. "It's absolutely time for hot lesbian sex. It's necessary. For the baby."

"For the conception at least. I don't want to fuck this kid up before it's even a fetus."

"Not even possible," Natalie says, offering Christina her hand. "Come on. Let's go practice."

Christina takes her hand and snuggles close - a little need to warmth and a sexy wiggle besides. "At this point we're really less practicing and more finding new ways to be earthshattering."

"That's true," Natalie says, pulling her right in for a kiss before they head upstairs. "Right now, I'm thinking we practice the part where I make you come a bunch of times in a row... since that's what I'll be doing on Thursday, before we get started," she murmurs. "Deal?"

"Deal." Christina curls around Natalie, threading her arms around her waist and pressing their bodies together.  



End file.
